Screams In The Dark
by PainfulxPapercut
Summary: The Dark Lord has taken over the wizarding world. You have a choice take the Dark Mark... or die. Four didn't take it and those four escaped the executions. They are in hididng, but can they hide from the bloody massacre the Dark Lord wants to start?


-1_I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll,_

_I hide behind a smile as this perfect life unfolds,_

_But oh God, I feel I've been lied to,_

_Lost all faith in the things I have achieved in,_

_I have woken up to find myself in the shadows of what I have created._

** Away From Me, Evanescence**

"NO! _Please…_ I'll do anything!"

The boy squirmed in his sleep, his face contorted in what looked like unbearable mental pain as he writhed and screamed, arms pinned to his sides by non-existent bonds. Sweat stuck his black hair against his forehead and his arms moved from his sides as he flipped onto his stomach, practically clawing at the bed, green eyes still firmly shut as he moaned, "Don't want to look… won't look…" His face, if possible, screwed up even more, eyes secured shut as though by glue. His hands wrapped around his stomach and sides, as though trying to hold his thrashing scrawny frame still and eventually, his green eyes slowly opened and the panic etched away from his face though the pain still shimmered in the emerald eyes. Unable to focus, he grabbed his glasses and pushed them on; giving a yelp as a large pair of hazel eyes stared into his green ones.

"Dobby!" he breathed, jumping up. "You gave me a fright." He smiled reluctantly at the house-elf who had been living with them. The elf twisted his small, gnarled fingers together nervously and Harry looked at him questioningly as he threw on some jeans, simultaneously wriggling out of his pyjamas and turning his back as he did so. When he turned around, Dobby was still ringing his hands and staring uncertainly at Harry, who felt a tiny bit irritated.

"It was just a nightmare," he said shortly. 

"Is Harry Potter OK now?" Dobby squeaked. "Dobby thinks it is too early for Harry Potter to get up and he should get rest--"

"I'm fine." In truth, he could do with more sleep but he didn't want the nightmares to return. It was just beginning to get light outside. He looked out of the window and bit his lip. He hadn't been outside in six months. _Six whole months_! Since Lord Voldemort had taken over the wizarding world. Since he had told everyone in it to take the dark mark or die. Since he and three others had refused and hidden here…

Knowing, or thinking, that the other three would still be fast asleep, he stood up straight and looked at Dobby. "Dobby," he said slowly. "Don't tell anyone about my nightmare-- because that's all it was and I don't want to worry anyone." He said it firmly, more to himself than Dobby, who looked worried about something, eyes wide, but didn't mention it. His bat like ears flapped as he shook his head sadly and Harry felt fleeting amusement; that house-elf almost acted human.

"Bye." It was spoken quickly as Harry slid out of the room and took the stairs one at a time, dragging his feet. He was deathly pale from not seeing the sun. Deciding to go and get a drink, he pushed on the wood of the kitchen door and it opened for him to see two men already there to his surprise. The only female in the house was missing and he flopped into a chair with a weary smile. "Hello."

"Hi, Harry," Remus Lupin said with a warm smile. He seemed no more cheerful than Harry but seemed to insist on always putting on a brave face. Stupid git. Then again, it was exactly what Harry was doing.

"Nightmare over?" There was a knowing look as piercing blue eyes searched him from the other man. Harry felt angry at Dumbledore; it was none of his business, nothing was. So he replied coldly,

"Obviously."

"Hm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. He sighed, sat down and put the tips of his fingers together, staring at Harry with weary apprehensive looks from Lupin. "Harry, I will speak openly as keeping things from you has never done me any good--"

"You've noticed." 

"-- so I will say it without any tact or diplomacy. I think your dream was a vision."

There was a silence. Lupin looked surprised and apprehensive and Harry snorted. "No, it wasn't. It was just a bad dream. 'Sides, Mr. Oh-so-Evil is using occlumency." The nineteen year old nodded as if he had just proved a very important point which in his opinion, indeed he had. He looked at his former Headmaster in annoyance that he even suggested that it was a vision.

"You're scared, Harry." Dumbledore sighed. "Your eyes betray all your emotions, however much you try and hide them. You never excelled in occlumency, and Severus did nothing to help that matter. But you can admit you are scared; I don't think anyone here is not. There is Gryffindor bravery, Harry, and there is foolishness." He smiled at Harry who felt his insides squirm guiltily for being angry at the Headmaster.

_Damn conscience._

"Um. Right," he said awkwardly. "Do we know what Voldemort's trying to do?"

Lupin lowered his goblet of orange juice thoughtfully. "Well, he's after us of course, particularly you." He smiled slightly at Harry who grinned back.

"Yeah, he does like trying to do me in."

"He's influencing the daily prophet, of course. Like Fudge was; only he rules everyone and apparently, everyone must obey him. Everyone in this wizarding world, alive, has the dark mark now. Except us. It's the logo for everything."

Harry dimly wondered where this was going.

"He's asking anyone who sees us to leave the Dark Mark discreetly near it and he'll be drawn to it," Remus continued. "I think that advertisement in the Daily Prophet was meant as a kind of "you're going to die" message from him as well as--"

"He's been giving me that signal for years and never carried it out," Harry dismissed.

"This is dangerous, Harry. He'll start a massacre."

"A-- what?"

"A slaughter. The slaughter of us. The slaughter of_ you._"

"Remus, Avada Kedavra isn't what I'd call slaughter," Harry laughed though he felt uneasy. "It's painless and even if it's not, it lasts a split second. Besides, can't possibly be worse than the cruciatus curse, can it? Burning everywhere… I've always wondered, does it create some sort of fire in your insides?" He tried in vain to lamely steer the conversation from his death. Merlin, he'd be asked what song he wanted at his funeral next. He managed the ghost of a smile as he thought of asking the Sorting Hat and Peeves to sing something.

"It fires off every pain nerve in your body and sends it mad, but that's not the point," Remus answered, Dumbledore watching and nodding. "Harry, do you REALLY think you will die in a flash of green light?"

Harry shifted. "Huh?"

"You made him suffer for thirteen years."

"Yes, and I gladly take credit for it." 

"I know you do. But he'll want to make _you_ suffer. He'll want your blood, he'll want you broken--"

"OK, Remus," Dumbledore reprimanded him gently. "He isn't James, he isn't going to brush off these remarks and charge off after the Dark Lord with a baseball bat." Harry grinned again as a mental image of Voldemort running down the street with a pursuing Harry and baseball bat sprang to mind. Remus looked slightly ashamed.

"Sorry, Harry."

"No problem, I wanted the truth."

The door opened, cutting off Dumbledore who had opened his mouth to say something. A girl stumbled into the room in a dressing gown and blushed when she saw everyone in the house was in it. "Oh I didn't expect anyone to be up," she said with embarrassment, rather obvious from the even bigger bush of hair than normal and the sleepy, brown eyes. Harry laughed out loud and Remus smiled and gestured to a chair which she sat in and looked serious. "Talking about Voldemort?" she asked. "Guess you saw the Dark Mark thing in yesterday's prophet," she sighed, looking at the newspaper. "Do you… think we'll ever win?"

"'Course," Harry said with fierce determination but at the same time Remus shrugged and Dumbledore sighed and looked away. Harry felt his shoulders droop and Hermione looked downcast.

"There is hope. We have Harry, of course," Dumbledore assured her.

_Yeah. Of course. We have Harry. Enemies punch him down, allies expect him to jump back up and carry on every time! What a hero he is!_ He shook the bitter thoughts from his mind; he'd been having them a lot lately. He tried to tell Hermione once but she told him it was stress ('and no wonder!'). But he forced his lips to stretch upwards as he said wryly,

"Of course, super-Harry to the rescue."

It wasn't funny- at all- but everyone laughed nervously. He noticed the atmosphere was even tenser than yesterday and shrugged it off. He focused on his nightmare… and how badly his scar burned when he woke up…

**-x-**

"Harry, have you seen the Prophet?"

Harry, who had been reading a book on the Dark Arts for horcrux information, looked up in annoyance. He was lying on his stomach on the bed and his green eyes fixed on his friend as she stared at him breathlessly. Feeling uneasy, he dog-eared the page and rolled over onto his side then got onto his knees to stare at her. "What bad news you got this time?" he asked, trying to sound light-hearted; but his voice was marred with dread as he looked at her. However she didn't sound afraid, just surprised and… disgusted?

"Read it," she said shortly, tossing him a page of the newspaper that had been scrunched into a ball. He smoothed it out and spread it across the duvet. His expression froze in place as he read and he sighed deeply. "How horrible," she said sadly. "And I… felt sorry for her in fifth year…"

"I can't read on." Harry hadn't even got past the headline as he threw it back. Seeing "_Cho Chang kills six muggles in one curse for Dark Lord_" made him want to throw up. "Stupid bitch," he snapped uncharacteristically. Hermione sighed and made her way through the messy room to sit down on the bed next to him and lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Voldemort's influencing everyone by fear. We can't blame her."

"We would have chosen death!"

"You would," Hermione said quietly. "I would've too but if you were gone, I might've caved in and chosen the mark… maybe Cho had no-one left."

"Oh excuse me if my heart doesn't bleed for her…" 

"Harry!"

"Ron had just accepted the mark," Harry snarled and Hermione moaned and buried her face in her hands in anguish.

"I don't want to hear about--"

"He had US! He was a GRYFFINDOR! SO EXCUSE BLOODY ME IF MY HEART DOESN'T BLEED FOR THE IDIOTS WITH A DARK MARK ON THEIR ARM! I AM NOT SYMPATHISING WITH THE STUPID BASTARDS WHO HAVE A DARK MARK IMPRINTED ON THEIR FOREARM, OK HERMIONE?"

"Harry, please don't shout," Hermione said through a tear-streaked face at the mention of her ex-boyfriend.

"Don't ask me to do stuff for people that don't deserve it then," Harry snapped, his tone angry. "They made their choice and they can burn in hell for it!"

"Even Ginny?" Hermione said quietly.

"Y-yes," Harry answered stiffly.

"She and Ron only did it because their parents did. Their parents did it to save their children," Hermione said quietly.

"My-- if--"

"Would you take the mark to save us?" she asked quietly.

"No-- yes-- I don't know," he said honestly. "I'd die for you with no hesitation, no regrets. But taking the mark…"

"Betrayal is worse than death for you, isn't it?" Hermione asked softly. He nodded.

"If I was forced to take the mark, I'd either gouge it out of my skin or kill myself." It was meant to be a light joke but she reacted sharply.

"Don't say that, you don't know what the future holds."

Harry shrugged. "But I wouldn't follow anyone into taking the mark. I've saved Ron's arse a few times out there-- from dementors, from the poison-- he could've followed us, he'd still have us!" Hermione bit her lip and it was obvious she either saw it pointless to argue or could think of no defence. In the end she nodded and turned to walk out of the room.

"By the way, Harry?" Hermione said, suddenly sounding firm.

He turned around. "What?" he said bluntly, looking out of the window.

"You should remember, not everyone has your courage."

Harry frowned and turned around, opening his mouth to reply but she had already gone, leaving a deeply awkward silence in her wake.

**-x-**

An hour later, Harry had attempted to go back to reading but the words jumped around the page and Hermione's words echoed in his ears. He still thought he was mostly right but annoyingly, his conscience disagreed with that statement and he was fighting an inward battle. Eventually, he snapped the book shut then cursed as he realised he forgot to dog-ear it. However, more pressing tasks were on his mind and he edged along the hall and up a flight of stairs to the second and top floor and along to a mahogany door he knew as Hermione's room. He knocked and waited-- no reply. Figuring she might be ignoring him, he opened the door.

She wasn't there. He cursed again and sat down on the bed to wait for her when there was a crackling under the quilt. Rather apprehensive, as this was a girl's room, he felt under the quilt, ready to shove it back if it was embarrassing. Looking at what he found made his insides squirm but not with embarrassment.

Three eleven or twelve year olds, the picture of happiness and innocence. One with bright red hair, one with long bushy brown hair and one with black hair. All grinned and waved at him… Hermione and himself were smiling. Ron might have been.

He couldn't see his friend's face. It had been scribbled over by a heavy black marker.

Staring on in shock, he realised how disgusted Hermione was and how she didn't let it on. He fingered the photo gently and had to fight to blink back tears when a hand lashed out with reflexes that would rival his seeker ones and grabbed the photo. He looked up into an angry pair of brown eyes.

"You had no right, Harry!" she shouted.

"I-I came to say sorry," he stammered. "I sat on your bed to wait and I… I'm sorry," he trailed off meekly. She sighed, calming down and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to fly off the handle."

"You had every right," Harry reassured her.

"I miss him." Hermione apparently didn't realise Harry was still there. "I wish he was here, stuffing his face with food--" she smiled though tears spilled down her face "-- cracking jokes, laughing…"

Harry stood up and crept away. He could hear her talking, remembering, wishing all the way down the hall.

He could hear her even over his own painful crying.

His head was bent low when he collided with someone and looked up in horror; Dumbledore! Shit! "I-- was in Hermione's room," he said desperately. "Loads of dust there, I'm allergic."

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded solemnly though neither believed the lie. "You look worried. Is anything troubling you?"

_Everything._

"Nothing, Professor."

"Okay. I will not trouble you any longer."

"Er. Okay."

Harry tactlessly replied to his Professor then turned away and walked toward his own room. And when he got there, he began to cry again, so hard his body shook. It was most uncharacteristic.

Eventually, his crying tailed away. He reached for a tissue and cleaned himself up, feeling foolish. He should go down for dinner now anyway. He walked toward the stairs and froze at the top; pain. Pain flooded his forehead, his scar burned, he was dying from the pain…

He didn't notice he had tumbled down the stairs or hear the female scream of "HARRY!" he didn't realise a man had rushed forward to catch him; but half-way down, before he reached the man, his head hit off the banister and he knew no more.

**-x-**

**A/N: OK I did have this story up before, before I decided I wanted to do chapter one in Harry's point of view so I quickly started again. If you wanna see the trailer, search PainfulxPapercut (user) on you tube and it'll be there as Screams In The Dark, Fanfic Trailer.**

**Review? ;D**

**xx**


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